


The Gift of Samhain

by LadyLaran



Series: The Gift of a Wise Heart [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen, Halloween, Samhain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 03:26:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12547788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLaran/pseuds/LadyLaran
Summary: Samhain has arrived and Miss Camellia Baggins performs the ritual to celebrate the event.  This time, a spirit speaks to her about some of the worries she carries and also brings a message of hope.  Her soul's equal will soon arrive...a blessing and worry considering what walks in the darkness this very night when the veil is at its thinnest.





	The Gift of Samhain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [badskippy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/badskippy/gifts), [aquileaofthelonelymountain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquileaofthelonelymountain/gifts).



> Author’s Note – This idea came to me recently as I was contemplating Samhain and thinking about what I should do for it this year. For now, this is a one shot but it may become more later. I’m not sure yet. I think it depends on what happens in the future and the response this little story gets.
> 
> While I am pagan, I am relatively new to this and have yet to do a Samhain ritual. I am creating a ritual unique to Middle Earth and know they won’t be accurate for those of us in this world. I figured Arda’s traditions and what happens on that particular night may be different from our own.
> 
> AU Warning – Female Bilbo, magic rituals, and soulmates
> 
> Disclaimer – I do not own “the Hobbit” nor do I make money from this story.

The small figure hummed softly as she continued the preparations for the ritual. She caressed the various wicks of candles, lighting them with small tugs of her power once she was certain the holders were secure in the windows. The light would help guide any spirits who had crossed through the veil safely to the homes they were seeking that night as well as stand as symbol for the love of the living for those who had passed on.

Once that done, Camellia Baggins loosened her hair from the ribbon that had kept the tawny colored curls out of her face and stood in front of the table she had set up hours ago after casting the wards to protect her home as well as the homes of those who did not have the ability to ensure their safety on this night.

Picking up the athame, she began the ritual by calling the elements to lend protection and aid for this night, greeting them with joy and gratitude. The hilt, carved from rowan, warmed in her hand as she laid the foundations for the spell. It was soon laid down, and she began chanting softly as herbs were added to the small bowl in front of her.

Camellia’s voice began to rise as she used her power to gently coax a fire to the herbs, letting the fragrant smoke fill the air.

“On this blessed night, I welcome those who walk in love and light into my halls. Only those bound to my heart and mean no ill will may enter my wards, come into my halls as they walk this night, free from Mandos’s Halls. Love and light and blessings to thee, as I will it so mote it be!”

The hobbit felt her power move through the earth as well as air, and her smial warmed around her when she heard a much loved and missed voice greet her.

“Hail Wraig Ddoeth, beloved of the Baggins and Took lines!”

Blue eyes softened as she greeted the voice.

“Hail and welcome, Belladonna Baggins.”

A shimmery figure appeared in front of the younger woman, and both smiled happily to see the other. It had been a long time since her mother had gone on to Yavanna’s Fields, and she had missed her greatly.

“You look well, my blossom,” the spirit said quietly. 

“I try very hard to keep to the instructions you and Papa have given me,” Camellia answered. 

“We are proud to see it,” Belladonna said, knowing she and her husband had instructed their child to live fully and happily even though they were not there to experience it with her. “You have done well in taking your father’s path.”

“I help where I can,” she told her. “There are times I feel as if something isn’t quite right with the connections I feel. They’re not as Papa and Grandmother Adamanta described.”

“There are reasons for that, ferch annwyl. While you have the connections the Valier have gifted the wraig ddoeth, you are meant for paths of a different kind. The connections will snap into place once you are where you are meant to be.”

“Where am I meant to be, Mama, if not here?”

“Over the Misty Mountains, far to the north,” the spirit answered. “You will find your home there when your soul’s equal comes to draw you from this garden home.”

A flash of pain clenched her heart; Camellia had passed her coming of age and her soul’s equal had not come for her. Despite being respected for the path she was on, she knew she was gossiped about whenever she went to market or attended the events her position required.

“I fear he will not come,” she whispered, not surprised when her mother heard the heart felt words she had uttered.

“This is another reason I have come,” Belladonna shared with her daughter. “Not only to help prepare you for what the future holds but also to tell you that you will meet him this night. He will depart in the morning but do not despair, ferch annwyl, for he will return soon to draw you from the gardens of the Shire and walk with you to the home where you are both meant to dwell.”

Hope eased the pain before she caught onto her mother’s words, and she stared at the spirit with a stunned look on her face.

“He wanders this night?”

“He does so be in readiness, my blossom, for you will need to guide him to safety. Be wary for his arrival draws near.”

Camellia nodded, then gave a soft smile to her mother. She could feel the connection weaken and bowed her head.

“I thank you for visiting me this night, ysbryd annwyl, and may Mandos guide thee safely through the Veil to thy rest,” she began. “Depart with joy and love, and know thou art missed.”

Belladonna’s spirit smiled and disappeared, leaving her to close the circle by ending the ritual. She genuinely thanked the elements for their aid and protection before bidding them good night, feeling incredibly grateful.

Once everything was completed, Camellia cleaned up her ritual site, setting her tools aside for cleansing in the morning. The rich scent of the herbs lingered in the room but was the only sign that something had taken place. 

She hummed to herself while heading to the kitchen to put the kettle on; she’d set out a cold supper earlier to enjoy after the ritual but wanted some tea to help her think. Her mother’s words echoed through her thoughts and while they explained a great deal, they were troubling as well. Leaving the Shire was not often done but if this is what she had to do to follow the wishes of the Valier, then she would but knew she would miss her green home. Being separated from one’s soul’s equal was considered an anathema to hobbits and was the only reason a child of the Shire would leave.

Camellia knew one of her uncles had done so, finding his soul’s equal in one of the First Born, and she’d heard tales of other hobbits who had been drawn from the Shire to make their homes in places far from here. 

The lass was drawn from her thoughts when she felt her wards give off a warning. Someone was wandering and in danger from the beings who walked the paths this night. She reacted immediately, running to her front door and opening it.

Her keen eyes spotted a figure not far from her gate, struggling against what looked to be a wraith. She hurried down the path, murmuring an invocation to strengthen her protections as she did so.

The gate opened easily, and the hobbit put herself between the stranger and the dark creature. Her eyes burned with power, talisman around her neck warming as she began shepherding the wanderer to her gate, needing to get him inside her wards.

“You are not welcome here, foul being. This one is under my protection, and you will not feast this night! Return to the shadow and trouble us no more!”

It lunged but hissed as her power swelled. Rings of fire danced around her as she chanted, burning the creature when it tried to harm her and the one she was protecting. It tried lunging once more, only to be hit with a blast of fire.

“Return to the shadow,” she commanded, fire hitting it one last time and causing it to flee.

Once it was gone, Camellia hurried the one she was protecting through the gate, closing it behind her. She could see he had been injured but not where so she guided him up the path, into her smial.

“Right,” she stated. “Follow me.”

The hobbit led him into her bathroom, guiding him to sit down. She was rather surprised to find that her unexpected guest was a dwarf, but she hid that surprise as she pulled out her healing supplies.

“Master Dwarf, I give thee sanctuary in home this night,” Camellia began. “I mean thee no harm and offer my wards and protection against those who walk freely on this very night.”

“I accept thy protection and sanctuary, Good Mistress,” the dwarf answered, completing the small ritual.

“Good,” she said with a smile. “I must ask you to remove your top layers; I know you’re injured, and those wounds need to be treated given what caused them.”

Camellia turned to give him some privacy, setting out the items she would need to treat his wounds. She could hear the heavy sounds of armor and weapons being set on the floor as well as the soft rustles of fabric as they were removed and set aside.

“Ready,” he said, voice causing a soft shiver to go down her spine.

She turned and forced herself to not react to the muscular figure in front of her. The Valar had definitely created a very handsome form for her soul’s equal, and it was all she could do to keep herself from showing she was affected by him.

The lass could feel his eyes on her as she examined the injuries and wondered if he felt the draw towards her as she did him. She could feel her power stirring within her, giving her confirmation hat this was definitely her soul’s equal, and it made her wonder how dwarrow recognized their own soul’s equal.

“You’re fortunate,” she said, reaching for the salve she needed. “The wounds aren’t deep. I can bandage this, and you should be healed within a few days.”

“My armor protected me,” the dwarf said quietly, watching her. “I am grateful for your rescue.”

“You came close enough to my wards for me to know someone was in need,” Camellia answered. “Tonight is a bad night for traveling.”

“I have been traveling for some time and lost track of time,” he admitted. “I would have taken sanctuary had I realized what tonight is.”

Her hands were gentle as she cleaned the wounds before using the salve on them; bandages were applied carefully so to keep the injuries clean but not hinder his movement.

“You are welcome to take shelter here,” she told him. “I make a habit of keeping a few guest rooms made up for tonight in case some are unable to return home by the time the sun goes down.”

“Thank you kindly,” the dwarf replied with a grateful note in his voice.

“Unfortunately, I do not have a shirt to offer you but I am willing to mend these tonight,” Camellia said, picking up the torn shirts and tunic.

“I have one in my pack,” he answered.

“Then I will leave you to clean up and dress,” she said. “If you take a left after leaving the bathroom, the second door on your right will be yours for tonight. You can leave your things there before joining me for supper.”

He nodded and she left, garments in hand. The hobbit headed down the hall, setting his clothing on top of her mending basket before going into the kitchen to make tea and also set out the last few things needed for tonight’s meal.

Once she had that taken care of, Camellia leaned against her counter with a soft sigh. She was still shaking and was trying to get that under control. Her guest had a very strong effect on her simply by being in her presence, and it was unexpected despite what her mother and father had told her whenever speaking of meeting each other. Her heart was pounding, and she simply could not seem to stop the trembling that was determined to show itself.

“Miss, are you all right?”

At his voice, she looked up and managed to hide the sharp breath she had to take. Her guest was wearing a shirt of a rich shade of blue, and the soft fabric clung to his muscular form. 

“I am,” she answered, giving him a smile. “Please, take a seat. Would you like some tea or wine with your meal?”

She poured him a glass of wine, sitting down to join him at the table. Camellia had chosen the kitchen table when she’d set everything up, not thinking she would have company and quickly apologized for the informal setting for their meal. Her guest was quick to brush off the apology, not minding this at all, and she blushed when he commented that this was cozy and comforting after what he’d run into earlier.

The night was enjoyable as he was willing to share stories of his travels and the adventures his family had been involved in, and she shared a lot of the stories her own parents had told her during her childhood. The conversation flowed through the meal and clean up, which he had insisted on helping her with.

They continued to chat in her parlor while she mended his clothing and he went over his weapons, sharing stories as well as talking about any topic that seemed to occur to either of them. Camellia couldn’t remember ever enjoying herself as much as she had, and she was sorry to have to bid him good night when both decided to try to rest.

The following morning, the conversation was enjoyable over breakfast and she was disappointed when he made mention of needing to continue on his way. The lass packed him plenty of food for his journey, then gifted him with a protective talisman to wear. The symbol was etched onto a piece of rowan, threaded onto a leather cord.

Her soul’s equal donned the talisman, ensuring it rested against his skin, and then departed on his way. His words of thanks and hopes to return rang in her ears long after he disappeared from sight.

“Well, Mama, you did say he would return,” she murmured, taking a seat on her bench. “Let’s hope you’re right because I can feel the ache now he’s gone. May the Valier watch over him and bring him safely to my door once more.”

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s End Note – Once more, I chose Welsh as the tongue of the hobbits. Translations are here; please forgive any mistakes as I have to rely on translation sites. Wraig ddoeth means wise woman, ferch annwyl means beloved daughter, ysbryd annwyl means beloved spirit. It’s not easy writing a story where the identity of the dwarf is not spoken of. If I do decide to expand this, I’ll have to think on who it should be that’s her soulmate. I do know it needs to be one of the Durins, but I’m just not sure who. It’s a bit rough, but I like where it is at the moment. Please let me know what you think of it; I’m curious as to whether or not you guys think I should continue this and if so, who should be the lucky dwarf. Happy Halloween and blessed Samhain to all! ~ Laran


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